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by Woofemus



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Shin Ankoku Ryuu to Hikari no Ken | Fire Emblem: Shadow Dragon, Fire Emblem: Shin Monshou no Nazo | Fire Emblem: New Mystery of the Emblem
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 10:32:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12340920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woofemus/pseuds/Woofemus
Summary: Palla and Minerva, a moment of respite.





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**Author's Note:**

> takes place between shadow dragon and new mystery of the emblem

Crickets were all that greeted Palla by the time she'd gotten back to the castle. Exhaustion set into her very bones, and she considered sleeping in her rarely used room at the barracks. There would be no one waiting for her at home, with Est setting up her shop in Altea now, and Catria sent away on a separate mission. To go back to an empty house where her sisters weren’t waiting for her, what would be the point?

Not for the first time, painful loneliness struck Palla. Without a mission to distract her, she couldn’t push away the feeling as easily as she once could. Now that she was back in their homeland, it made her all too aware. Palla had watched over her sisters for so long, and she knew this day would come, but to think she once thought she was prepared for it…

Was it so bad to want her sisters by her side, to want to protect them until she was absolutely sure they no longer needed her protection?

Distracted by her thoughts, Palla found herself walking down a familiar hallway rather than the path to her room. Even if it was nighttime with only the flickering lanterns to light her path, she knew this hall as well as the back of her own hand.

What she didn’t know was why she could gleam light from behind the door at the end of the hall.

If not for her trained eyes, she might have never noticed it, but she had always been keen to the occupant of the room. She stepped down the hall quickly and so light that her boots made nary a sound, an easy feat for an eldest sister who needed to sneak around slumbering sisters. Once she reached the door, she knocked on it, once, and then thrice in quick rhythm, and opened the door.

“Palla?” Minerva called out just as she stepped into the room. “Is that… is that really you?”

The disbelieving way Minerva spoke gave Palla pause. “Commander?”

Minerva shook her head. “Forgive me, I thought I had fallen asleep and was dreaming it were you when I heard your knock. I’m pleased to see that it really is you.” Her expression softened. “But, is it not rather late? Why are you awake at this forsaken hour?”

“I should ask the same for you,” Palla answered, a wry smile at her lips. “I just arrived back from a mission. Have you no duties for tomorrow?”

“If only,” Minerva looked down at her desk, a growl at the back of her throat before she let it out as a tired sigh. Palla stepped closer, and realized the desk Minerva sat behind was filled with all sorts of paperwork. It was an odd sight, Minerva and paperwork.

Ever since Minerva ascended the throne in the absence of Prince– _King_ , Palla had to remind herself, for he was still king no matter the abominable way he seized the throne—she’d been unsurprisingly busier than ever.

The might of Macedon had diminished during the war, from losing their tyrant king and from clashing with the Archanea army. Tension between factions within Macedon continued to threaten the fragile stability that Queen Minerva could barely hold. King Michalis had been widely popular among the people, and his followers still held much sway. There had already been few reports of tiny bands of deserters loyal to Michalis causing trouble. Minerva was popular as well, but she was no Michalis.   

All in all, a rough job, especially for one so unused to politics as Minerva was.

“How did Father and Brother do this all the time?” Minerva spoke. Palla could hear the exhaustion, and frustration, coming from her queen. She walked closer, until she stood in front of the desk, so close she could peer down and gleam some of the contents from the paper. She was much closer than any subordinate should have been, but Minerva was never meant to sit behind a desk.

“It is already late. Perhaps tomorrow will be a better day for everything?” Palla suggested though she couldn't keep the concern out of her voice. It came easily to someone like her, but she feared to sound pitying.

“I must finish these so that I may discuss them tomorrow with the advisors.” Minerva made another low growl. “These rebellions and attacks from bandits, surely they would be better quelled if I rode out to meet them myself, but I cannot leave the castle unattended, else…” She didn’t need to say any more for Palla to understand, the creeping danger pervading throughout Macedon.

Palla glanced down at the table, glancing through the papers. Reports of uprisings and rebellions, banditry attacks, a request for a new bridge, a trade request with a city that Palla didn't quite catch the name of, all sorts of things that Minerva didn’t need to handle. It had been easier back then, when her commander was only just her princess.

There was little Palla could do to help. It tore at her, how she could see Minerva in such distress but remained powerless to even offer her some sort of aid. The young queen had no other help other than her father’s old advisors who had remained loyal to the family, but the winds were steadily changing in Macedon. Not a day went by where Palla caught the constant whispers of dissent under Minerva’s rule.

But Palla knew, that if Minerva could, she would have gladly given the throne to someone more capable. Unfortunately, succession would go to Maria instead, and to force Maria upon such a bloody throne, there was absolutely no way Minerva would allow it. Palla knew, Minerva would sooner break the crown forcing it on upon her own head than to ever come to that. She could understand that sentiment.

She looked back up at Minerva, saw how she hunched over, caught the bags under her eyes, noticed the deep lines drawn all over her commander’s face. Slowly, she made her way to Minerva's side. Now that she was closer, she noticed the bandana on Minerva’s head slightly askew. She had to resist the urge to reach out and adjust it to a proper position, a habit born out of unruly sisters. Instead, she reached out and placed her hands gently upon Minerva’s shoulders, hands trembling for only a split second. When Minerva turned around to look up at her questioningly, Palla offered only a soft smile.

“If you will not rest, perhaps you will feel better if I gave you a massage?” she asked.  

Minerva turned her head slightly, bringing her gaze down to one of the hands on her shoulder. “As you used to, huh? That sounds lovely.” She rolled her shoulders and scooted toward the edge of her chair for Palla. Underneath her hands, Palla felt the muscles, along with all the knots, and wondered how long it had been since Minerva had gotten any sort of good rest. She wondered if Minerva had been able to train, to at least be able to keep her body fit if not her mind, but it seemed unlikely. A shame, for her commander to waste away like this.

Palla took a deep breath, trying to rid the extra thoughts in her mind and moved her hands gently, coaxing Minerva into relaxing before she began, squeezing her hands and digging her thumbs into the strong muscles.

They stayed silent save for Minerva groaning softly as Palla worked at her shoulders. Although Palla herself was exhausted, if she could give some peace to Minerva, even if only a little, she would gladly do this for as long she needed to. With her sisters away, it felt nice to be relied upon like this.

Eventually, Minerva shifted slightly and laid a hand over Palla’s. Understanding instantly, Palla stilled her fingers, awaiting. With a heavy breath, Minerva slid her hand away and pressed it against her own heart. From where Palla stood behind, she couldn’t see Minerva’s face, but knew what sort of face her queen was making.

“I am not fit to be a ruler,” Minerva began to speak. “Michalis took from us our king, my father's life, and for that I punished him. But he was still our _king_! They called him the second coming of Iote, and our people would have gladly followed him to the ruin we were heading into!” Minerva clenched her hand into fist, and Palla feared she would draw blood. “He was meant to be king after Father gave the throne to him! Why did he think he could overcome the earth dragons?!”

Slowly, she drew open her fist. Palla saw the half-moons dug into her palm. Unlike the faded scars that lined Minerva’s hands, these marks would disappear, but they would only go back inside, to the wound inside Minerva’s heart.

“Maria, even now, despite everything that happened, still prays dearly for him.” Minerva's voice already reserved, lowered into a whisper Palla wasn’t sure she was meant to hear. “I do not know where she draws that kindness from because I am devoid of any of it.”

Minerva's body shook, but it was still silence. Though there was still light from the lantern on the desk, it felt as if a darkness engulfed them instead. Everything thrust onto Minerva was unfair, especially after all the servitude she was forced to endure, fighting against her own countrymen and kin, and then facing down the sheer terror of the Shadow Dragon. She sacrificed so much for Macedon already and no one would know of her struggle.

Palla allowed herself a moment to gather her bearings before she spoke. Words now, more than ever, were needed, and Palla understood the pain of bottling up important feelings.

“Commander, whatever choices you make, I—” Palla let out a breath as she caught herself. “Whatever choices you make, we of the Whitewings will follow you. Est and Catria would come flying back immediately should you call for them. Even if you choose to pit the world against you, we will obey your every command.”

Minerva hunched forward. Her face was still hidden, but Palla didn’t know what sort of expression she would be making now. “I know,” she finally said. “ _I know_.”

There was guilt in Minerva’s voice, and in spite of herself, Palla felt the corners of her mouth tugging upward in ironic amusement. Such words often brought comfort to lieges, but Palla knew the burden they forced upon Minerva. Truly, her queen was kinder than anyone Palla had ever known. In the silence between them, she could almost hear the next words Minerva wanted to speak, the silent apologies that always seemed to hang between them in every conversation they had during the war.

“… I cannot pretend to say that I do not understand the sorrow my words cause you,” Palla said. “But it is the truth. Your duty has always been to Macedon. For that, you had no choice but to punish your brother. As a Whitewing, as your knight, I am obligated to follow you down the path you chose. But, forgive me if I confess that my loyalty does not lay with Macedon.”

Palla heard the intake of Minerva’s breath the same time she felt her fingers curling into Minerva’s shoulders. An inappropriate gesture, she knew, but everything she was saying was long past propriety at this point. “It had always laid with you, Commander.”

Even if Minerva wasn’t looking at her, Palla inclined her head downward in deference, feeling the faintest warmth start to creep into her face. “I… I have spoken too much, forgive me for speaking out of turn, Comm—”

“Palla.” Minerva’s voice had an odd tone to it, and Palla soon realized why, when a chuckle came from her commander instead. “You’ve always been frank with me, why apologize now? It’s what I appreciate the most from you.”

Minerva sighed, and then stood up. She turned around and met Palla’s gaze. Her expression was unreadable, a rarity to Palla. After long moments of silence, Minerva finally broke contact, casting her eyes downward. She raised her hand, clenching it into a fist.

“I… have slain my own countrymen, struck down my own brother. Now, I attempt to govern what should have never been mine. Rebellions happen, and I can do naught to calm them for the safety of my people. If Michalis has brought Macedon to the ground, then I am on the verge of burying it.” She brought her gaze back up, and even with the way her commander set her jaw, Palla could tell how vulnerable she felt. “Even so, will you still stand by my side?”

Palla met her commander’s eyes, tilting her head to do so. Minerva stood so tensely like she was preparing for battle instead of standing in her own office and asking a simple question from her knight.

There was only one answer for Palla to give.

“Always,” she answered immediately, reaching out to lay her callused hands over Minerva’s closed fist. “ _Always_ ,” she repeated with a note of finality that she knew it would shame Minerva to question her.

Silence came between them as Palla felt Minerva’s eyes on her, searching. Through the scrutiny, Palla kept herself decisive, knowing any ounce of hesitation would guilt Minerva more than she already felt. Not that Palla could ever feel herself waver, her devotion to her commander as endless as the sky they flew in. Before long, Minerva chuckled again, a low and shakier sound now. “You’ve always been stubborn to a fault, Palla,” she said, “but I appreciate that part of you as well.”

There was no other answer for Palla to give to that but a faint smile. The uncertainty Palla felt from before seemed like fleeting nonsense now. She had her own path just as her sisters had theirs, and she had chosen to fly with her commander.

Slowly, Minerva opened her fist, let her hand linger under Palla’s touch for a moment that seemed longer than appropriate before it fell away. She turned back to her desk, seeming to sigh at all the paperwork scattered about it. “If there was something I must ask you to do for me though, it would be to push the sun back into the sky and grant me more time in the daylight,” she lamented so loudly that even Palla couldn’t help but laugh. Minerva looked back at her, smiling tiredly.

“Were it in my power, I would gladly do so, but…” Palla shrugged helplessly. “Well, shall I leave you, Commander?” she asked though she was already moving away before Minerva had even spoken. She circled back around the desk, standing in front now as she awaited her orders. Minerva nodded, dismissing her with a wave of her hand as if to shoo her away.

“Thank you for your massage earlier. And please, get the rest that I certainly will not be getting tonight,” she said, a humorless smile forming on her lips.

“Now _that,_ I can do,” Palla answered with full seriousness, and when Minerva let out a laugh, Palla almost let the smile twitching at her lips slip out.

“Palla,” Minerva spoke up suddenly, “to know that you are still at my side is the greatest boon I could ever have.”

The words, spoken so heartfeltly and genuinely, caught Palla off guard. She thanked the darkness for shielding the sight of her face, warm now from the unexpected praise. All she could do was stare at Minerva with eyes wide with surprise, still too flustered for words to come to her tongue in that moment. At that, Minerva seemed to smirk, for whatever reason Palla wasn’t sure of.

When Minerva sat back down, she took that as her cue to leave. “G-good night, Commander,” she called over her shoulder, cringing when she heard her own stutter. Thankfully, Minerva seemed to have made no note of it.

“Good night—ah!” Palla startled at Minerva's gasp.

“Yes, Commander?” she asked immediately. The response had been so reflexive, Palla wasn’t even aware she’d even spoken.

"Hm." Minerva looked bemused, and she put a hand on her neck, as if uncertain. Ah? Now that was curious. She looked as if thinking better of what she meant to say before shaking her head and clearing her throat. “I forgot to say this since you mentioned it earlier, but welcome back from your mission.”

Perhaps it was the fatigue Palla felt, but it took her a moment longer than necessary to process what Minerva had said. They'd always been deployed together during their service to their kingdom, always flying through the same sky at the same time. It used to be Catria and Est who would welcome Palla back but once they too became Whitewings, they all went on the same missions together as well. It had always been all of them, together, the Whitewings, and their commander. Now, just coming back, Palla had been all alone, and yet...

A rush of emotion rose in Palla that made her feel like she was soaring through the sky, a familiar comfort that she was surprised to feel here even with the absence of her sisters.

_Ah, that’s what it was._

She didn’t need to, but Palla turned back around to face Minerva fully. “Thank you, Commander. It’s good to be home.”


End file.
